


She's Only 18

by le_chat_vilain



Series: In The Dark [4]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Nudity, Sexual Tension, coarse language, ink blot, psych testing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:57:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5686567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/le_chat_vilain/pseuds/le_chat_vilain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan finds himself distracted from his mission for the first time, and we find out more about Victoria’s connections.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's Only 18

**Author's Note:**

> No warnings apart from come coarse language but who gives a shit about that. No smut in this one but still some titties and tension because everyone loves both of those things. For those wondering the tattoos Victoria gets him to analyse are cards 1 and 5. Coming off of an crazy fucking bad bout of writer’s block, I feel like this one’s a bit shaky and far from my best, but I’ve gotta get back on the horse somehow so go easy on me lol
> 
> Soundtrack: She's Only 18 by the Red Hot Chili Peppers

Victoria watched him leave, marvelling at the way the muscles in his back twitched when he walked, the beads of sweat making his skin glisten when he passed by the light. The door shut behind him and she stayed slumped against the wall for a while before she yanked off her boots and finally mustered the strength to rise to her feet. Already she could feel the aches creeping in, her neck, her back, her ass; tomorrow was not going to be a good day if she couldn’t get her hands on some painkillers, stat.

She shuffled to the shower, peeling off her pants the rest of the way as she went. It had been a long time since anyone had fucked her like that, just completely taken control and put her in her place. It was incredibly liberating to not be in the driver’s seat for once. For the first time in a long time, she’d felt something, and not only that, but it was good.

***

Ronan threw his armor down on the floor the second he entered his quarters, punching the button to close and lock his door behind him. Pacing back and forth, he tried to justify his actions in his mind, tried to convince himself that there was a greater reason he had just done that aside from the fact that he really wanted to. Naturally, he came up empty handed. He sat on the end of his bed and fell back so that he was staring at the ceiling. Hiding his face in his hands, he let out a frustrated roar.

Why the fuck did you do that?

It had been stupid, most definitely, but that wasn’t what was causing him such deep concern about the whole situation. Until now, he’d had no idea that another person existed who fit together with him so well, who could move with him the way she did, who above all, wasn’t afraid of him. She was arrogant and obnoxious, and completely fucking crazy, but she existed. Worse than that, he was finding himself completely mesmerised by the puzzle of her, her madness, her wit, her seemingly endless ability to surprise him; she was a gorgeous little blonde nut and he had to crack her. He needed to crack her. For years all he had been able to think about was his revenge, all he had felt was rage, but with her he’d found a momentary escape and a way to feel something good.

He tried to bury the thoughts under a mountain of scheming and hatred for Xandarians, but it was useless, she just kept bleeding through his consciousness. He kept seeing his hand slap her flawless ass, hearing her whimpers and moans, feeling her warmth; she was everywhere. This was not who he was, he was never the kind to stray from the mission at hand. Then again, he was also not the kind to act on impulse like that, and yet what had he just done? In a desperate attempt to cure himself of her, he resolved to take a bath and deal with the other prisoner in the brig, hoping the blood of his enemy could bring back his sense of self. A sleepless night later, he admitted defeat. Nebula found him kneeling by the execution block, staring at the blood soaked carvings in the floor.

“Ronan, Korath has returned,” she reported.

The expedition to Morag had been fruitless, some Terran thief in Ravager garb having made off with the orb. He would not leave obtaining the orb up to chance again. Gamora had never failed him in the past, and this “Star-Lord” would surely be no match for her. Still, he needed to know more about this man, and found himself striding towards Victoria’s quarters, justifying his haste with the possibility that the two Terrans may have crossed paths at some point.

When he arrived, unlocking her door with an override code, he found her still sleeping peacefully. There it was, that softness in her again, not a lick of crazy or harshness visible in her face. Feeling himself sliding back into all consuming thoughts of last night, he decided to leave; he was here for the wrong reasons. Then, in typical Victoria fashion, she stirred.

“Back for more?” she teased, sitting up slowly and stretching her arms over her head, the blanket falling down and revealing her bare chest. Her short hair stuck out in tufts as though she’d been electrocuted, and he noted how well it suited her, even in that state.

“What? No, what do you know of a Terran called Peter Quill?” he asked, getting straight to the point.

“What, just because we’re both from Earth we must know each other? That’s a bit racist don’t you think?” she sassed.

“Just answer the question, and put those away!” he instructed, gesturing at her chest, no longer able to keep his eyes off her or his thoughts straight.

“You weren’t complaining last night…” she muttered, and pulled the blanket up tucking it under her arms. “There, happy?”

“Quill, do you know of him?”

“Yeah, I know him well actually. Why?”

“And did you know he was after the orb?” he questioned, feeling rage starting to bubble in his gut.

“You mean did I tell him where it was? No. We don’t talk anymore, but it may come as a surprise to you to learn that you’re not the only one looking for that thing right now,” came her explanation. “Who knows how many other junkers Tivan’s sent after it besides me.”

“The Collector?”

“Yeah The Collector. What, you think he gets all that shit for himself? I’ve been fetching crap from all over the galaxy on the whim of that white-haired weirdo for years now. What is it anyway?”

“That is none of your concern,” he said firmly, someone as unstable as her didn’t need to know that there was an infinity stone out there. “What can you tell me about Quill? Strengths, weaknesses, does he pose any real threat?”

“He’s slick, could charm the pants off the devil, but he’s a sucker for pretty girls. Dangle the right piece of ass in front of him and you shouldn’t have a problem,” she suggested. “Who’d you send anyway?”

“Nebula’s sister, Gamora,” he replied, immediately thankful that he had. She may be green but she was beautiful.

“Gamora? Have I met her yet? How do you know you can trust her?” Victoria asked with skepticism.

“She is the one person here I know I can trust. She has never let me down.”

“Alright, if you say so…” she shrugged, letting the blanket fall down once more. Kicking her legs off the side of the bed, she stood and made her way past him to the couch where an assortment of clothes were messily stashed. She was completely naked and he couldn’t help but stare as she bent over to pick up a pair of navy leather pants, catching him looking when she peeked over her shoulder. “Admiring your handiwork?”

It was then he noticed the bruises emerging on her backside, exactly where his hip bones had been ramming into her. The memory flashed before his eyes, so vivid he could almost feel her wetness around him.

“Don’t worry, I like it rough.” She threaded her legs into her pants and pulled them up slowly, turning and bouncing a little as she did, a wicked smirk on her face as she saw him watching her tits jiggle. Gone was any hope of banishing thoughts of her from his mind, and he could feel his dick hardening under his armor.

“Your tattoos, what are they?” he asked in a feeble attempt to distract himself. He may have lost the battle against his imagination, but the fight against the urge to go back for more was still very much in progress.

“These?” she asked twisting to show off the ink on her back and stomach. “They’re ink blots, the Rorschach test. Not all of them of course, just a few.”

He looked at her, puzzled. She walked towards him with a sigh, stopping in front of him.

“How you interpret them tells me about your personality, how you process things, what makes you tick,” she explained, turning her back to him and straightening her spine. “On my shoulders, look at the image, tell me what you see.”

He studied the smudges, cocking his head to one side, then the other, trying to think of what it reminded him of. Now that he thought about it more, it looked rather sinister, and the longer he looked the more uncomfortable he grew.

“Something angry, the face of a beast of some kind,” he answered.

“Well no surprise there, anything else?” she pressed.

“Maybe a mask?” he said, shaking his head with uncertainty.

“And what about this one?” she asked, facing him again, lifting her breasts so he could see the tattoo below them in full.

“A winged insect, maybe a bird,” he murmured, raising his hand to rub his thumb across it gently, resting his palm on her ribs. He could feel her heart beginning to beat faster along with his.

“Well, you might be paranoid but at least you’re not schizophrenic,” she chuckled. A throat clearing cough sounded behind them and he glanced over to see Gamora standing in the doorway. Removing his hand from Victoria’s ribs, he quickly tried to compose himself.

“What?” the annoyance in his inflection unmistakable, though overall he was thankful for her intrusion.

“I’m leaving for Xandar, I thought you should know,” Gamora explained.

“Consider me informed. I trust I do not need to remind you of the consequences of failure.”

“Not at all,” she responded with a shake of her head, then turned on her heel and continued down the corridor.

“That her?” Victoria asked, zipping up her vest and giving her unruly hair a quick tousle.

“Yes, thoughts?”

“Oh yeah, he’s gonna love her,” she said with approval, sitting on the couch and pulling on worn lace up boots. Rising wearily, she locked eyes with him and they stood in silence, staring each other down. “Don’t you think you should go and tell her what I just told you, about him? Call me crazy but it might be helpful.”

“Yes, of course.”

She brushed past him as he said it, waiving nonchalantly over her shoulder as she went.

“Where are you going?” he called out.

“To see a prettier blue alien about some panties!” he heard her bellow back from the hall.

When he caught himself grinning again, he knew he had a problem: there was no way he was capable of killing her now.


End file.
